


Party Games

by Anonymous



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders is horny, M/M, Michele is a bitch, Mitchell is hot, so what else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Anders sees Mitchell at a party and wants to climb him like a tree, but Michele interferes. No one expects what happens then (and this is not clickbait!).I used a prompt generator and you’ll likely know the prompt when you see it...This is for oursesolitaire!





	Party Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dandelionpower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionpower/gifts).



Anders couldn’t quite recall which city council dignitary was throwing this party and why, and he didn’t particularly care. There was booze and a buffet that must have cost a fortune, and it even contained a few edible things beside caviar on blinis and raw herring in weed. Or something. If it had been actual weed though... Anders smirked to himself. That would have given the party a certain flavour. More than it had now, anyway. 

Yes, there were a lot of nice ladies, most of them non-fuckable, sadly, but a few that definitely were. He had already flirted with a pretty brunette and two nice blondes, though one was already so drunk now that Anders was beginning to avoid her. Girls were no fun if they were too drunk and often had second thoughts the morning after, and that was even less fun. 

So Anders was now browsing the shelves, as it were, when another brunette caught his attention. Messy dark curls weren’t usually his type, but whiskey-coloured eyes and a smile like that... Anders was beginning to inch closer. 

Most people thought Anders was the straightest guy in town, but while Anders favoured women, he had had his occasional fling with guys before. The only reason why he didn’t boast about it was the fact that once his brothers knew he’d never hear the end of it; _Anders_ was the one making gay jokes about _Ty_ , not the other way round. 

But that guy...

A shirt with the two uppermost buttons undone revealed dark, curly chest hair. His whole frame suggested a finely shaped body. Anders scanned said body and his eyes were glued to his ass when he finally got a glimpse of that. That was most definitely the most fuckable ass in the room. 

He was starting to cross the room to test the waters, to find out of Mr Tall-Dark-And-Handsome was interested in men when she arrived on the scene. And she immediately spotted him. 

Anders saluted her with his glass, a fake smile, and a nod. 

Michele was really the last person he wanted to deal with right now, the bitch queen. If she caught him having an interest in a guy she would run to his brothers faster than he could say shit, and tell them Anders had finally come out of the closet, and his reputation would be ruined. The cunt. He took a sip of his vodka. 

_Cuntess Bitchqueen_. 

Yes, he had dropped the ‘o’ on purpose. He thought it was a rather good pun. Cuntess Bitchqueen the Pesky.

The Cuntess just smiled at him, and shit... he knew that smile. She fucking knew, and she just turned around and reached Anders’ goal way before he could have gotten there. Well, that was it. She had picked exactly the one person in the room Anders had showed more than a fleeting interest in. The fucking cunt was as irritating as a mosquito bite on your nutsack. 

Anders watched them talk and smile and there they went, and there went his mood. 

Maybe it was time to remind her again that he knew where she lived and where she worked, and that he could fuck her over in five different ways with just a few sentences dropped here and there. Not tonight though, tonight the battle was lost. 

Horny and frustrated Anders called it a night and took a taxi home, where he spent the rest of the night sulking in his bed.

* * *

Nursing the after-effects of a sleepless night instead of a hangover the next morning, Anders lay on his sofa feeling thoroughly sorry for himself. He was already trying to make plans where he should start fucking Michele over when the doorbell rang, and he laboured out of the sofa with a grunt.

Yet whoever he had expected to see now – it was not _him_. 

There he stood, Mr Tall-Dark-And-Handsome, but the smile on his face looked as if it would rather crawl away and hide somewhere and he was holding on to it with his teeth. 

“Um,” Anders said. _Smooth move, motherfucker_. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, yeah...” The stranger ran his fingers through his messy curls and Anders noticed the gloves for the first time. Also, without the shirt he had worn last night he looked more like a walking fashion accident than anything else. Or maybe he was colour-blind?

Not that it mattered once he was on his back on Anders’ bed with his legs up and his ass cheeks spread... which was a rather distracting thought, Anders realised, as he had missed the first part of the sentence. 

“... and I thought that we could maybe... I don’t know...?”  
“Eh?” Anders blinked. “What?”  
“I said...” The stranger sighed. “I said that I don’t know you but... you were at that party last night and long story short I now have your name tattooed on my ass.”

Anders stared at him for several seconds before he had to bite back a laugh. It still came out as a snort, but he bit it back again and swallowed it because unsurprisingly, the stranger looked angry, and hurt, but more angry. He had very impressive eyebrows. 

“Sorry mate,” he said. “That’s not an everyday story here.”  
“Yeah...” The stranger picked at his gloves. “I mean I saw you, and then this woman showed up and started flirting with me, but I fear I had a bit too much at that point because from then on it all gets a little hazy.”

_Cuntess Bitchula has struck again._

Anders realised he needed more expletives for that bothersome creature. 

“Well...” He looked over his shoulders, moistening his lips with a quick flick of his tongue. “You wanna come in? You look like you could use a coffee.”  
“Thanks, mate.” 

Anders still couldn’t place the accent; he could only tell that he wasn’t from here, or Australia. 

The stranger fell onto the sofa with a slight wince – the wrong sort of sore, the poor sod – and Anders made coffee, trying not to picture his name on that ass because fuck... he really wanted to investigate the matter further. 

“So,” Anders said as he sat down. He put the cups down onto the table and tried to think of something else to say. In the end he settled for: “And you really can’t remember how it got there? My name I mean.”  
“I don’t really have to remember how it got there since I can make a guess,” the stranger answered darkly. “Someone in a shady tattoo studio had no problem with giving a tattoo to a guy too hammered to stand straight, and now here I am with the name of a total stranger on my ass.”  
“At least he’s a good-looking stranger,” Anders replied, and smiled brightly at the other man over the rim of his cup. 

He should have expected the glare he got. 

“I mean, it’s nothing but the truth,” Anders went on. “And it’s not as if I had something to do with that stunt. I swear.”  
The stranger relaxed again and went from ‘beast ready to strike’ to ‘hurt puppy’ in two seconds flat. “I guess not.”

Anders took another sip of his coffee and put down the cup. “So,” he said again. “Since you obviously know my name already, can I ask yours?”  
The stranger looked up with a baffled expression that turned into a flustered little grin. “Sorry. My manners...” He cleared his throat. “I’m Mitchell. John Mitchell, but everyone calls me Mitchell.”  
Anders nodded with another smile. “Mitchell. Okay.” Then he sighed with a little twitch of his head. “I have to disappoint you though. I am not going to have your name tattooed on my ass in turn.”

Mitchell stared at him with parted lips for a moment before he burst out laughing. 

Anders had never seen such a smile, such a laugh. That man was the literal definition of a ray of sunshine when he laughed. Also, he was the very definition of sex on legs and Anders began to think of a way to continue what the Cuntess had interrupted last night. 

“More coffee?” Anders gestured at Mitchell’s empty cup. “Or are you good?”  
“I’m never good,” Mitchell replied with a smirk that caught Anders completely off guard.  
“A bad boy, hm?” Anders asked after the second he needed to rally himself.  
“You have no idea,” Mitchell said in a low voice. 

That husky murmur went directly into Anders’ groin. 

There was definitely something in the air now, something that told Anders that the Voice would be completely unnecessary this time. Anders moved a little closer, and watched as Mitchell’s eyelids fell, just a little. 

“A bad boy with lots of tattoos?” He asked.  
“Only one,” Mitchell replied without retreating.  
Emboldened, Anders invaded his personal space a little more. “Want me to find it?”  
Mitchell chuckled, another sound that immediately headed for Anders’ groin. “It’s on my arm so you’d be done rather fast.”  
“Hmmm...” Anders purred. “I could try and check if my name is spelled correctly.”

Mitchell’s eyes turned dark, but the smirk was still there, and damn... those lips looked so kissable...

Anders was taken by surprise when Mitchell made the first move, probably having come to the same conclusion. 

Mitchell was a good bit taller than Anders, and also quite obviously a good bit stronger. He pulled Anders into his lap without making half an effort and didn’t even need to break the kiss. It was a turn-on like no tomorrow. 

They continued to kiss, messily and hungrily, their hands groping each other’s bodies wherever they could reach. Eventually Anders had enough of the tent he was pitching and broke the kiss. 

“Bed,” he muttered.  
“Lead the way,” Mitchell replied and let go of Anders’ backside. 

Their way to the bedroom was a ridiculous stumble of moving as fast as they could while simultaneously getting rid of as much clothing as was possible. Once they had fallen onto the bed they undressed each other without much finesse, and once all that clothing was out of the way Anders quickly rolled on top of Mitchell again, but stopped to admire the abs and the chest hair covering them. 

Grinding their groins together Anders looked up, as breathless as Mitchell was, and flashed the other man a grin. “I’m not a bottom,” he said, licking his lips. “Might have established that before, but we both were kind of in a hurry.”  
“Fine by me,” Mitchell muttered. “I go back and forth all the time.”  
“Nice.” Anders moved lower. “The body is, too.”

Mitchell chuckled but it died in his throat when Anders reached his goal. Because the fact that he usually slept only with girls didn’t mean he didn’t know how to handle a dick that wasn’t his. And his mouth was definitely also good for something other than annoying his brothers. 

“Shit... Anders...”  
The moan turned Anders on even more. He looked up with an inquisitive hum and a knowing smile, but without taking Mitchell’s dick out of his mouth.  
“You feel so fucking good...”  
Anders let go of Mitchells dick with a vulgar little plop, a smile appearing on his face when Mitchell gasped in frustration. “I’m not known for leaving my lovers unsatisfied,” he said. “But now for the reason I’m here.”

Mitchell questioningly cocked one eyebrow. 

“Turn around,” Anders said and emphasised his words with a circling motion of his hand. “I need to check that name.”

Mitchell snorted in amusement, but turned around without hesitation. Now Anders inspected the well-shaped back and shoulders, and the extremely well-shaped ass that, indeed, bore his name on the left ass cheek in a very nice script. 

“Seems like it’s spelled correctly,” Anders said in a silky voice. “But I’d better check again, really closely.”

The fact that Mitchell assisted with that in lifting his hips so he was suddenly on his knees accelerated the inspection, so Anders could shift his attention elsewhere. Mitchell buried his face into the pillow and muttered a few words in a language Anders couldn’t understand, but that sounded very much like obscenities. 

With a smirk he straightened up again after a moment and, wiping the back of his hand across his lips, crawled past Mitchell towards the nightstand where he kept his equipment. 

He took his time with prepping Mitchell’s ass because the sounds he made were just too enjoyable, but when Mitchell reared up and told him to... fecking?... fuck him already Anders dropped everything else and grabbed a condom. 

Oh, that ass was gorgeous, as was the whole man. His voice and the way he talked did things to Anders, and those eyes... and those eyebrows... he definitely wasn’t a good boy, and Anders had every intention of finding out all the details. 

Musings about funny accents vanished from his mind however as he entered Mitchell’s body, together with all other conscious thoughts. He listened to Mitchell’s moans and curses with a smile, and to his own voice as he started to fuck him, slowly at first but with increasing vigour. Then he reached around Mitchell’s waist with one hand to grab his cock, and stroked that in the rhythm of his thrusts. Coming together was a very rare occurrence, but Anders usually managed to get pretty close. 

It didn’t take long after that before Mitchell’s moans grew heavier and more intense with every thrust, and he came only moments before Anders himself was pushed over the edge. He spent himself with a few last deep thrusts, lost in the blissful sensation of post-orgasmic bliss for a moment before pulling out. He got rid of the condom before letting himself flop down onto the mattress next to Mitchell who still had his face buried into the pillow.

“Need CPR?”  
“Too late for that,” Mitchell replied cryptically and turned onto his side. 

He looked thoroughly well-ridden, and Anders smiled proudly, but he also felt a certain fondness when looking at that handsome man in his bed. He was definitely worth more than a one-night-stand. 

“You know...” he began casually, “maybe you could expand that tattoo.”  
Mitchell lifted one eyebrow.  
“It could say ‘Property of Anders Johnson’, Anders explained with a cocky little grin.  
“Staking your claims, mate?” Mitchell reached out and closed his fingers around Anders’ chin. 

That simple gesture shouldn’t be such a turn-on. 

Seriously.

“Staking yours?” Anders shot back to cover up how hot and bothered Mitchell’s look made him.  
“Maybe,” Mitchell replied and moved closer. “I mean, I do have your name on my ass, so you’d better make it worth my while.”

Anders promised himself that he would deal with the Cuntess another time, but maybe he’d just go for a warning shot since Mitchell had ended up in his bed after all. 

He felt the smirk on his face grow into another cocky grin. “Challenge accepted.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the prompt I got was indeed: _I don’t know you but you were at that party last night and long story short I now have your name tattooed on my ass._


End file.
